Loose Ends
by poetrygrrl39
Summary: Episode tag for Loyalty. I didn't much care for the ending Eames and Goren received. Originally this was a fluffy little one-shot to say goodbye to two of my favorite characters, especially the under-appreciated Alex Eames. But now it grew.
1. Chapter 1

Alexandra Eames hadn't been unemployed since she was big enough to borrow her older brother's bike and take over his paper route when he broke his arm.

So waking up without a job the Wednesday after she left her badge and gun neatly on the Captain's desk at Major Case was an odd experience.

She rolled over and looked at her alarm clock. 8:31 a.m.

First came the confusion: Why hadn't her alarm gone off? Was it Saturday?

Then the realization: No, it wasn't the weekend; she just didn't have any reason to get out of bed.

She pulled the covers back over her head and tried to go back to sleep. That's what you did when you lost your job, right? You stayed in bed?

After a while, she gave up. Apparently she couldn't treat a Wednesday like a Saturday even if she didn't have a job.

She climbed out of bed, showered, dressed, and found herself sitting at her kitchen table with a cup of coffee 30 minutes later staring at the clock on the microwave. 9:47 a.m.

She should call her Union representative about paperwork and her pension.

She should call Logan and Barek and Falacci and Deakins and give them the news and see if they knew anyone who was hiring. Wheeler already knew; she had been Alex's ad hoc therapist and designated driver last night while she drank away her doubts about her decision.

She should call Goren and…

Call Goren and what, exactly, Alex? she thought to herself, turning the coffee cup in her hands. Apologize, again? Request another hug (and another and another)? Talk about the weather?

When all was said and done, without the job, did she have anything to talk to Goren about? Any reason to see him? Any reason other than the feelings she had never told him or anyone else about?

That thought drove her up out of her chair and to the closet where she kept her cleaning supplies.

While she scrubbed toilets and wiped counters and folded towels and tucked sheets, she refused to answer the more and more frequent rings of her cell phone. She checked the screen every single time, but none of the calls were from Bobby, so she ignored them. Family, coworkers, ex-coworkers, the Chief's office, they all wanted to talk to her. All except the one person she wanted to talk to.

Then she avoided thinking about why she only wanted to talk to Bobby, since she had established that she wasn't sure they had anything to talk about.

It was 11:56 a.m. (according to her cell phone display) when the phone lit up with the number she wanted to see.

"Hello," she answered. She wondered when the last time was that she had answered her cell phone with anything other than her last name.

"You quit?"

Wow, that was pretty close to a Goren roar, she thought.

"Good morning to you too, Bobby," she said sarcastically.

"What? Oh, yeah, okay, 'good morning.' You quit the force?"

That was definitely a Goren roar. The corner of her mouth quirked up and she leaned one hip on the edge of her dresser.

"Yep."

"Eames…!"

"Alex," she interrupted firmly.

There was a pause, and her smile got wider. She could imagine him rubbing his neck in confusion.

"What?" he finally asked.

"My name…is Alex. I'm no longer your partner, senior or otherwise. So you don't need to use my last name….Bobby."

"Are you alright….Alex?"

"Of course, Bobby," she said in the well-practiced, long-suffering, reasoning-with-the-Captain-pissed-at-the-genius tone she had perfected during their partnership. "In the last 24 hours, I let my Captain's killer go free, I got promoted, I fired my partner of 10 years – who incidentally is my best friend, and I quit the NYPD, otherwise known as the family business. I am fan-freaking-tastic."

Pause. "Eam…Alex….Are you drunk?"

Alex laughed. "No, Bobby, I'm not drunk. I'll admit, I had a few last night and even cried in some of them, but right now, this minute, I am not drunk. Why, are you offerin' to buy me a drink?"

This time the pause was so long, Alex would have suspected they had been disconnected, if not for the sound of Bobby's breathing. When Bobby responded, there was a smile in his voice.

"I'm your best friend?"

"Well, yeah, of course you are."

"Really? I would have thought…I don't know, one of your sisters?"

"Bobby, seriously, they're both stay-at-home moms. More power to them, but they don't understand my life, a cop's life. Even the girls I grew up with don't understand me. Practically all my good friends are cops, and you, Bobby, are clearly the best of all of them."

Bobby chuckled on the other end of the line. "Well, I'm honored," he said softly.

"As you should be," Alex said with a laugh.

"Are you busy right now?"

Alex looked around her bedroom, at the vacuum cleaner standing idle and the dust rags piled on the dresser. She thought about the kiss on her cheek and the hug, and she looked at herself in the mirror. She was smiling, phone pressed to her ear by her shoulder, hair swinging in a pony tail.

"No, I'm free."

"How about that drink then?"

They set a place to meet, Alex's only requirement that it not be a cop bar, and she hung up the phone.

Who knew? They did have things to talk about. Maybe even things that had never been talked about before.

At the least, maybe she could get another hug.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: I thought this was a one-shot, but apparently it's a whole story. Who knew?! This is for the reviewers that requested more._

Chapter TWO

Alex paused in the doorway of the dimly lit bar and let her eyes adjust. Trust Bobby to know a place in midtown Manhattan that was far enough from 1 Police Plaza and the courthouse to make it unlikely that any of their former colleagues would be there.

She checked her watch. 3:24. She was actually a bit early.

She didn't see Bobby, so she adjusted the chain strap of her purse on her shoulder and headed toward the bar, only to be stopped when a large, warm hand curled over her other shoulder. She stiffened, then relaxed when she smelled Bobby's cologne.

"Looking for me, Eames?" came the rumble of Bobby's voice, so close to her ear that she could feel his breath. Her toes curled and she turned to face her erstwhile partner.

"Yep," she answered simply. She swept her eyes up and down his form, completely aware that he was doing the same to her. He wore dark blue jeans, a black t-shirt and a black leather jacket, and, she thought, looked good enough to eat.

"Wow, Eam…Alex. You look…um…nice."

Alex thought she looked better than nice, in her snug black jeans, lipstick red, v-neck sweater, and black leather blazer, not to mention the open toed black heels with the corset-style laces on the vamp, but she let it go.

"So what's a girl gotta do to get a drink in this place, Bobby?"

He grinned down at her. "She's just gotta ask, Alex. Your usual?"

Once upon a time, a long time ago, Alex Eames had been an expert flirt. Her time in Vice meant that those skills were turned to a darker purpose, which had taken some of the fun out of them. Working Major Case, trying to keep the respect of the almost exclusively male hierarchy, made her put them aside most of the time.

But today, today was the day to remember everything she had ever known about attracting men. In that light, she made sure her arm brushed Bobby's as she wandered over to a booth while he went to the bar with her order.

When she sat down, she shrugged out of her blazer and turned to fiddle with her purse. As a result, her back was to Bobby when he came back with the drinks, and she heard his intake of breath when he saw the crisscross red strips of fabric that formed the top section of the back of her sweater. She turned to face him as he sat down in the booth, sliding her drink toward her.

"Margarita, on the rocks, extra salt," he said. His voice was a tad wobbly and she grinned to herself.

"Perfect, Bobby, thanks." She licked some of the salt with the tip of her tongue and almost giggled when he cleared his throat, twice, before he spoke.

"Okay, Eames, you distracted me on the phone when I asked, but seriously, why did you quit the force?"

She lost her appetite for both flirting and the drink for a moment, letting her hair fall forward to shield her face as she twirled the swizzle stick in the margarita in her fingers.

"Bobby, they really didn't leave me any option. As soon as that ass, Moran, told me what he wanted me to do, I knew I wouldn't take the Captain's chair permanently. But I also couldn't let them drag you up before a panel." She raised her head and looked across at him, knowing she had tears in her eyes. "I figured that it was going to hurt you, and it was better coming from me than the Brass."

His large hand covered one of hers, "But I still don't understand why you quit."

She looked at him in disbelief. "Really, Bobby? You really don't know?"

He shook his head. His thumb was making idle circles on the back of her hand that tingled, and she wondered if he was even aware of it.

"Bobby, you are…were my partner. In fact, we were the longest partnership in the history of Major Case. The Brass didn't like you because you didn't play the game, and because, let's be honest, you don't always follow the rules. They had me fire you for the simple reason that they could. They don't understand us, and they figured it was going to devastate you and possibly destroy our friendship. Those are not the kind of people I want to keep working for."

She knew her little speech sounded rehearsed, and that was because she had given it twice already today. First to her young union rep, who told her that it sounded to him like she had a case to call her exit an early retirement and to get all of her pension.

The second time was her frantic, pissed off father. Johnny Eames liked Bobby, once he got past the reputation that followed her partner around, and when he had heard her reasons for walking, he had understood. He told her that the Eames clan was behind them both, which she appreciated. Of course, he had also volunteered to wait in the parking garage for Moran with a tire iron, but that was less helpful.

And now, the third time she had given the speech, she had reduced her normally verbose partner to a silent, open mouthed stare. She took advantage of the moment to pull her hand out from under his, making sure to turn it upward and drag her nails lightly along his palm. He shivered.

Suddenly, his jaw snapped shut, and she watched as his "I have just figured something out" face appeared, followed by the look that meant someone was in trouble. She had a feeling she knew who.

"Alexandra Eames, have you been flirting with me?" he demanded.

She fluttered her eyelashes. "Me? Flirting? Bobby, what makes you think I even know how to flirt?"

"The brush against the arm, the margarita salt, even that sweater. It all adds up. So the move with the fingernails on the palm, did you pick that up in Vice?"

She sat up straighter, feeling indignant. "Thank you very much, Goren! Not everything I know comes from working girls."

He laughed at her, and she humphed in annoyance, crossing her arms on her chest.

Quick as a flash, he was sitting next to her in the booth, and she had to uncross her arms to slide backwards a bit as he loomed over her.

"Bobby, what the hell?"

He reached out with one finger and caught a piece of her hair, trailing it over the back of his hand, then leaned down to catch her eyes. His eyes were hooded, but they held hers firmly, refusing to let her look away simply with the fire in them.

"So, Eames, I guess the question now is why? Why are you flirting with me? Are you just trying to distract me from what's been happening?"

She shook her head mutely while he played with her hair, eyes still locked.

"What would you do if I said I wanted you, Bobby?" Alex found herself saying in a whisper.

Bobby's eyes opened wide, and a shit-eating grin spread across his face, before he dipped down to within a millimeter of her lips. "I think I'd have to do this, Alex," and he kissed her.

The kiss was gentle, tentative. She could tell that he was waiting for her to push him away, to refuse him. Instead she reached out and put her hands on his face, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.

When they pulled apart, both panting, he leaned his forehead against hers.

"Jesus, Alex. How long?"

"Since Jo Gage. You?"

"Since the baby."

"Some detective I am. I had no idea."

"Me either."

They laughed.

"Now what?" Alex said.

"I have no idea."

They laughed again.

"This place is going to get crowded pretty soon when the offices close. How about we go somewhere we can talk?" Alex suggested.

Bobby smiled at her. "My place is closest. And…Alex?"

"Yes, Bobby?"

"If I make you a margarita, would you do that thing with your tongue again?"

She swatted him on the arm as they left the booth, and he captured her hand in his. They walked out of the bar into the sunlight hand in hand.

END

_A/N: This time I think it's really over. Sigh._


End file.
